


Glowin' Like the Metal on the Edge of a Knife

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Guard!Gadreel, D/s, Dom!Michael, Established Relationship, Knife Play, Knives Aren’t Safe Kids, M/M, Mafia Boss!Michael, Protective!Gadreel, Questionable Kinks Involving Murder, Sub!Gadreel, Talk of murder, don't do this at home, mild rough play, possessive!michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 19:55:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13620579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Michael got a new knife, and Gadreel wishes he didn’t have a kink





	Glowin' Like the Metal on the Edge of a Knife

**Author's Note:**

> So this was written partially because I got a new knife myself and I told a couple people I was going to GIF myself as my Fem!Michael self flicking it open one handed for reasons and thought of Michael/Gadreel. And I was encouraged to write this. So. Enjoy. (I do have a GIF of me normally flicking it open, if anyone’s interested)
> 
> Title taken from Meatloaf's "Paradise by the Dashboard Light"

_ Click. Click. Click.  _

Gadreel looked over his paper to observe his boyfriend and charge. Michael was playing with the brand new knife he got in the mail earlier that day. The black blade flashed in the low light of the room before Michael carefully folded it back into the handle before flicking it open again. 

_ Click. Click. Click.  _

Gadreel tightened his grip on the papers, trying to ignore the tightening of his stomach and the way his cock decided to take interest in what was happening with Michael. Michael’s facial expression was best described as ‘bored’, although Gadreel figured that if you’re handling a knife on a regular basis like his boyfriend did, looking like you’re about to just casually murder someone was the best look to have. Michael wasn’t even looking at Gadreel, just kept his eyes on the knife as he flicked it open and closed. 

_ Click. Click. Click.  _

It shouldn’t be this hot. It honestly shouldn’t. And by now, Gadreel should stop questioning what  _ doesn’t  _ turn him on when it came to the head of the Milton Family. He really should. He’s seen Michael kill horrifically; he’s seen Michael calmly slit a man’s throat, wearing remarkably the same expression he was right now; he’s seen Michael snipe from buildings away and then walking away like he was on his way to 7-11 for taquitos. Gadreel’s seen it all, and has been turned on by it all. 

So, he really should stop questioning his kinks. It wasn’t healthy. 

_ Click. Click. Click.  _

Michael’s jade eyes were dark, his brows furrowed on slightly. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. His thumb and wrist flicked quickly, the blade flashing black chrome in the light of the fire before long fingers caressed the dull side of the knife and folding it back into the gear like black handle. 

Gadreel discreetly shifted in his seat, trying to return his gaze back to the paper. 

It’s not his fault his boyfriend was so fucking hot with a fucking knife in his hand. 

_ Click. Click. Click.  _

Perhaps Gadreel was turned on by how  _ in control  _ of everything Michael was. Of the Family, of his sexuality, of his life, of Gadreel. And how calm and cool and collected he seemed all the time. Gadreel’s seen how Michael conducts the family business enough times, as his personal bodyguard, and he has always admired how calm and suave Michael always seemed, even in heated situations that would have Gadreel swearing like he was a sailor who had been at sea for eighteen months and had just been denied shore leave. It was definitely a turn on. 

Gadreel knew Michael’s tones, though, probably better than even Lucifer, Michael’s younger brother and enforcer. The quieter Michael got, the angrier he was when he was in meetings. Gadreel’s been in meetings where Michael was speaking at barely above a whisper, and yet the thugs or representatives from another family- honestly, he couldn’t remember which, he was too busy trying not to excuse himself to go jerk off in the bathroom- kept antagonizing Michael. 

_ Click. Click. Click.  _

Gadreel closed his eyes and took a quiet deep breath, listening to the rhythmic click of the knife being flicked open. He was trying his hardest trying not to imagine Michael hovering above him, the barest hint of a smirk settled on dark pink lips as he held up the knife before flicking it open. 

_ “Be a good boy for me, Gad, _ ” the Michael in the mires of his mind murmured,  _ “I know you will, because this is what you want, isn’t it? _ ” 

Gadreel took another deep breath, letting it out slowly. Fuck Michael. Fuck Michael and his stupidly handsome face and soft, dark voice of chocolate and honey. Fuck his dumb long fingers that know how to touch Gadreel properly. Fuck everything about Michael. 

Gadreel did not like admitting to himself that he had a danger kink. He was a security  _ expert,  _ for Christ’s sake, and the personal bodyguard of a fucking  _ Mafia Boss.  _ Having a kink for his own employer doing things to him like holding a knife to his throat was  _ not  _ conducive to his work environment. 

But God forgive him, he did. 

_ Click. Click. Click.  _

Gadreel tried to think of anything but that annoying  _ click.  _ Anything to make his cock die down. Samandriel having sex. Ah. Yes. Imagining his baby brother having sex was  _ definitely  _ a turn off. Yes. That would do nicely. 

Gadreel’s eyes were still closed, and his entire focus was on willing his boner away by imagining Samandriel having sex with- well, anyone that Gadreel knew. As a result, he was not as aware as he normally was to the fact that the clicking had stopped. That Michael had gotten up and padded silently to the chair where Gadreel was sitting, paper laying abandoned on the floor, the knife closed in his hand, thumb stroking the thumb guard. A dark mischievous glint playing in the eyes of the Don. 

_ Click.  _

Gadreel’s eyes shot open, his hand coming up to grab Michael’s wrist to disarm his boyfriend but Michael was too quick, slipping out of Gadreel’s grip easily before grabbing the short hair on top of the security guard’s head and tilting his head back, laying the blunt back of the knife against Gadreel’s throat. 

Gadreel felt his breathing speed up and he looked up into the smug face of the Mafia boss. 

“So you’ve got a kink, Gad?” Michael murmured softly, amused. 

Gadreel flushed bright red, answering Michael. Michael gave a soft laugh. 

“I’m not surprised,” he murmured, stroking the length of Gadreel’s throat carefully with the knife. Gadreel would insist that a whimper didn’t issue from his throat, but Michael heard it. “I can understand why. Everything else about me turns you on, so me playing with a knife and imagining this must be intoxicating for you, isn’t it?” 

Gadreel groaned. “Mi,” he whispered. 

“We’ll discuss this more later.” Just as quickly as it had been at his throat, the knife was closed and Gadreel’s hair was released. Gadreel swung his head around to observe Michael putting the knife in his slacks pocket, the belt clip sliding easily over the expensive fabric. “For now, I want to take care of my boyfriend. We can play like that later this weekend.” 

“It doesn’t. . . bother you?” Gadreel asked hoarsely. 

Michael smiled and walked around to the front of the chair, climbing onto Gadreel’s lap. “No. Because I know that if someone other than me held a knife to your throat, you’d kick their ass. Also, they’d have to work for it.” He smirked and kissed Gadreel softly on the lips. “Unlike me, who got the jump on you because you were too busy trying to make sure I didn’t notice. Silly boy.” 

Gadreel rested his hands on top of Michael’s hips, looking up at his boyfriend. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured lowly. 

“I just observe with the eyes God gave me, and I  _ know  _ you Gadreel. I know you inside and out.” Michael’s eyes glittered in lustful possessiveness. “Because you’re mine.” 

Gadreel gave a purr and nosed along Michael’s cheek softly. “I am yours,” he murmured lowly, words meant for Michael alone. He knew that Michael had issues in the past with lovers not being wholly devoted to him, but Gadreel never could understand why not. So hearing that Gadreel was Michael’s and no one else’s was a turn on and a trust thing for Michael, and Gadreel could never think of it as anything else. Possessiveness wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, as long as it was done in a healthy manner. 

“Mine,” Michael whispered reverently, kissing Gadreel deeply. 

Gadreel moaned, squeezing Michael’s hips gently. “I need you,” he murmured against Michael’s lips. 

“I can tell, big boy,” Michael smirked, rolling his hips down into Gadreel’s. Gadreel groaned softly from the friction in his jeans. “Don’t worry, Gad, I’ll take care of you. I always do.” 

“And you mean it when you said we’ll play this weekend?” Gadreel confirmed. 

“One hundred percent, baby,” Michael promised, kissing Gadreel. “Maybe I’ll do it if I have to dispose of the Armstrong Don this weekend. Surprise you in the alley with my knife still dripping with blood.” 

“Oh God, take me,” Gadreel begged softly, shuddering. “You stop making me have questionable kinks and morals.” 

Michael laughed softly, nipping Gadreel’s lower lip. “You knew what it was like, dating a Mafia Don,” he murmured lowly, “And you dove headfirst.” He withdrew from Gadreel’s embrace, holding out his hand to help Gadreel out of his chair. “Let me show you that I’m not just a big, bad boogeyman.” 

Gadrel smiled and took Michael’s hand. “Please.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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